A few people asked, so here's the eulogy I wrote and delivered at pop's funeral on Sept. 16. It does contain a large amount of what I wrote a week ago, which seemed like a good starting point.

Seldom do 3 a.m. telephone calls bring anything good. But there was the mobile on the nightstand, buzzing with my dad’s picture on the screen. I was in bed in the basement; he was in his bed directly above.“Yes, sir?” “Are you asleep?” “I am not,” I lied. “What’s up?” “Can you come up here and talk to me?”And thus began two nights of serious discussion. Well, mostly he talked and I listened. He was consumed with worry. Not about the cancer that invaded him, but more black-and-white concerns.Frustrations over not being a very good man across the arc of his life.That inside him lived a good and decent person – and one dark and evil.Up to that point, he’d lived life on his terms. Independent and unapologetic. Surely in his youth, words like “scamp,” “rascal” and “scalawag” were synonymous with him.Indeed, as someone told us at his wake, “He was quite the Gabby.”The Air Force could not tame him. Three times he made sergeant and three times he was busted. Once for not wearing his cap; once for not getting a haircut; and once for not tying his shoes.Then he met my mother.And discovered what it is to love completely – and be loved in return. To be part of something greater than himself.Like everyone, he wrestled with his demons. But he never once blamed anything on them. He took responsibility for himself and all his flaws.As if the depths of his darkness propelled him to be a better man.While he had no parting ideas during those early morning talks on how to live the rest of my life, he has throughout the years encouraged us to seek our own path. Embrace the danger of living and taste every challenge like it was the sweetest of fruit.His mantra was that we should do what we love, embrace our faith, follow our hearts, question authority, be the best person we could be.And above all, don’t be so (expletive) serious.He was a deeply rich and complex person, not only in multiple shades of gray, but bursting with color and dimension.And like the artist who paints in bold strokes and bright hues, my father’s depth of character, his vivid past, splashed a little on everyone he encountered.We love you, dad.

While hurting over losing a parent, it's good to be able to say once and publicly what they meant to you and how you saw them. For some reason, in the middle of the grief there is the tiniest bit of comfort in being able to do that. At least there was for me. This is beautiful and loving and I wish you healing.

Thom Gabrukiewicz is both a communicator and a writer of flash fiction. Most of what he writes is kind of dark, with occasional forays into the light.
He’s a winner of some awards and has covered two Winter Olympics. He’s also written a guidebook about hiking with dogs.
He’s fiercely loyal and has a malevolent side that seems to visit less and less. He’s both a hopeless romantic and a realist.
He's currently working on community wellness issues in Wyoming.